


Standard Issue Regrets

by Traxits



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-08
Updated: 2014-06-11
Packaged: 2018-01-23 22:07:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1581143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Traxits/pseuds/Traxits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maria Hill is not exactly what pops into anyone's head when they think of 'damsel in distress'.  She has this tendency to cut people open (or shoot them in the foot) before they are even aware that they've angered her, and she shrinks from nothing.  Then the Hulk takes an interest in her, and while normally she knows exactly how to handle unwanted attention, the Hulk is not exactly responsive to her normal methods.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So the entire fic was born from the realization during my last Marvel movie marathon that 2003 [Betty Ross](http://ia.media-imdb.com/images/M/MV5BMTQ4OTY5OTMzMl5BMl5BanBnXkFtZTYwMDI0ODY3._V1_SX640_SY720_.jpg) and Avenger's [Maria Hill](http://images6.fanpop.com/image/photos/37000000/Agent-Maria-Hill-maria-hill-37022246-500-530.png) look enough alike that I bet it gives Bruce absolute hell when Maria walks by. He's just almost painfully aware of her, and not necessarily that creepy sense, but in the sense of, he catches a glimpse of her and his head comes up as his hindbrain goes, "Betty?"
> 
> And then he's crushed all over again when he realizes that no, it isn't Betty.
> 
> It started out as a five-times fic. Then Maria really got started talking. Somehow, it evolved into this multi-chaptered thing wherein Maria finds her feet among the other Avengers. ... I hope you enjoy it as much as I'm enjoying writing it!

It wasn't so much that Banner was actually invited to help on the mission as it was that he'd been caught in the crossfire. Stupid saying, and even dumber that it was actually true.

Maria sighed as she pulled her gun up and kept it trained on the hostiles, one of whom had a gun to Banner's forehead. It was entirely too close, and while Banner managed to look nearly bored there, she remembered what people had said about him in New York. That he'd just turned with no warning, no build up, and no assault on him. He reached up to adjust his glasses, and when the man holding him shouted, he said something in response. He was too far for Maria to hear, and she wished, not for the first time, that they were closer so that she could have at least read his lips.

"He's telling them that they're making a mistake," Clint reported, in his perch overseeing the whole scene. Doubtless, he was looking through a scope, and Maria made a low noise, hopefully pitched too low for the earpiece to pick up. "Looks like they disagree. They seem to think the pretty white scientist will be enough to make the Americans slow down."

"Little do they know," Maria muttered to herself, and she snapped her fingers at the interpreter standing near her. "Tell them that they are standing with something very dangerous. We're asking them to hand over the hostage for their own safety."

A raised eyebrow met her words, but obediently, the translator spoke through the megaphone.

Maria could feel sweat beading up on her forehead, nerves ratcheting up as they shouted back. She didn't need the translator to say anything for her to know they didn't believe her. It was all over how they twisted to try to stand a little more behind Banner, jamming that gun against his temple.

"Looks like our mild mannered scientist is losing his temper. I am fairly sure that vein in his head is starting to throb."

"I can feel that much, Hawkeye," Maria retorted.

"Yeah, well, I can describe it for you. Lots of sweat on our boy too—"

"It's muggy as shit out here; of course he's sweating." Maria cast a glance down the line of agents, and she ground her teeth together some. Clint's colorful description was making them nervous, had them shying at the idea of charging the hostiles. Maria's own hands felt clammy though, so she could hardly blame them. "Hold," she said firmly, keeping her voice even. Nothing was wrong here. (Yet.) "Hey, tell them that their hostage is very dangerous. We want to take him in so that he doesn't hurt them."

The translator dutifully repeated her without so much as a hesitation, and Maria watched the light glinting off Banner's glasses as he tipped his head forward. Laughing, probably, knowing him. The man had a sick sense of humor, but it wasn't something Maria could actually fault him for. If she had the Other Guy in her, she was pretty sure she would share that twisted way of looking at the world.

The tension between them rose a little more as they shouted back, and the translator murmured, "They say that he is their prisoner, and only after they get somewhere clear will they give him back. He is their assurance that we will not open fire."

Maria heard her own teeth grinding together before she realized what she was doing, and then she finally said sharply, "Hawkeye, do you have a solution?"

"I have the solution," he replied immediately. There was never hesitation from him, and she swallowed. Fury had wanted these idiots alive, but somehow, she thought he'd forgive her killing one if it meant preventing someone breaking the good doctor's current streak.

"Take it," she ordered.

The words had scarcely left her lips before the arrow appeared in the forehead of the man holding Banner, and so help her, but Banner didn't even so much as flinch. He just stepped lightly to one side as his captor collapsed, and he dusted himself off, head coming up—

A gunshot rang out and Maria's lips parted, her eyes widening as she watched Banner stagger. He had turned just enough to look behind him and someone had _shot_ him, but what had her breath caught was the way she saw his body twitching and jerking and she couldn't see it from where she was, but Clint provided all the details that she was missing.

"We've got seams busting, Hill, oh shit, that was the bullet bouncing off— Hill, we've got an interloper here—"

More like a concerned party, Maria thought vaguely, and no, this wasn't the place for this. Not here, not in the middle of the city in this warehouse, but Banner's body twitched again, jerked, and his skin turned a dull green as he started to grow. The only satisfying note about this was the way the hostiles paled, stepped back, and she spotted the one who'd shot him because the bastard had dropped his gun, his lips parting— moving, she thought— on what was probably a prayer.

Too bad the Other Guy never heard prayers.

"Get back," she ordered sharply, swinging her arm. "Agents, secure the perimeter. Do not engage!" She didn't follow them though as they fell back. Instead, she reached up and tapped her earpiece, a habit that was as much to make sure the damn thing was still there— Stark's new tech fit so well that she missed the bulk of the old ones, the way she always knew the other agents were with her— as anything. "Hawkeye, Widow, focus on securing the hostiles. We want them alive if possible."

"Hill, don't be crazy," Clint warned, and Maria felt a wry smile twisting her lips.

Don't be crazy. Because that was his job. Natasha's job and his job, but she knew better. He was too far to be a sufficient distraction, and Natasha... Well. She'd seen the tapes of Natasha with the Hulk on the carrier.

She wouldn't willingly put the other woman through that again.

Instead, she shoved her gun into its holster, and she started running, focusing on Banner as he pushed himself up. He'd grown several feet, and judging from the way his body kept spasming and jerking, he wasn't anywhere near done. One of the hostiles screamed and his head swiveled around and no, that wasn't Banner now. It was all the Other Guy, who roared in response. The hostile screamed again, and gunfire erupted, and the Hulk roared, slamming his fists into the ground.

Maria staggered but she didn't let herself fall down. Instead, she rolled right into the fray, pulling out her tranq gun to try to start helping Natasha and Clint with the clean-up, but Clint must have needed to move with the Hulk up, because there were no supporting arrows. It was just her against the hostiles and Hulk both, and she didn't waste darts on trying to take Hulk down. She knew better.

Those things were formulated to drop a person with little more than a good scratch, but they wouldn't break the skin of the green monster in front of her. The Hulk had one of the hostiles by the foot, and he kept slamming the man into the ground and the wall, and the poor bastard had long since stopped screaming. Hulk would probably keep throwing him around until he fell apart though, had the others not opened fire on him.

She had two down, but there were still five standing, and the Hulk threw the broken body toward them, roaring angrily before he turned.

Mid-turn, he stopped, looked at her, and Maria's breath caught. Quickly, she dropped the gun in her hand, holding them up so that he wouldn't see her as a threat. The last thing she wanted was for the Hulk to repeat his little performance on her. He walked over to her, just two steps to close the distance, and he leaned in, bracing on his knuckles as he bent down so that his nose was practically in her hair. She couldn't breathe as warm air washed over her face, and her heart skipped a beat when one of those hands came up—

An arrow bounced off the Hulk's shoulders, and he glared up at Clint before his hand wrapped around Maria. It took her a split second to process the huge hand around her middle, the almost tender hold as she was tucked in against an expanse of green skin that she'd never once considered being so close to. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she looked up sharply at the Hulk, her mouth opening and closing as she caught a glimpse of Natasha's expression as the Black Widow stumbled, her wide eyes and parted mouth.

Maria's stomach sank sharply, her breath caught, and she flinched instinctively for the next round of bullets, because held like this, Hulk's fingers meeting around her waist, she had nowhere to roll, no place to tuck and get the hell away from that hail so that she would survive to shoot back. Turned out that flinching was all Hulk needed to roar a challenge and pull her in against him again, her cheek against his chest, her hands spread flat against those muscles as she twisted to try to get a good view of the field.

There were too many guns still up for her to be out of commission like this, but she didn't dare yell, not with the naked fear she'd seen in Natasha's face.

And honestly, it was much the same fear that pounded through her. It was every woman's fear in this day and age, being snatched up like some King Kong heroine, all agency and ability to defend herself gone. She couldn't breathe though if she let herself think about that, so instead, she slammed her fist against the Hulk's chest. He blinked down at her, green eyes focused on her face, his brow furrowed as he cocked his head slightly to one side.

"Hey," she snapped, slamming her fist against his chest again. "Let me down! I can't help you here!"

"Betty," the Hulk said, his voice soft and low and tenderer than she'd ever heard anything else from Banner, and her stomach twisted.

"Maria," she corrected, and she kept her own tone sharp. The same voice she used on her recruits. "And you don't carry Maria around! Put me down!"

His hand tightened slightly on her— it was all that was needed to take her air— and slowly, the Hulk released her. His hand lingered, blocking the next round of bullets, and she snatched her back-up gun from the holster on her leg to poke between those fingers and fire.

Nobody had said anything about reinforcements, and the Hulk roared all over again before he charged in after them. Maria was careful not to let herself be too relieved, not to let herself react too much at the whole situation. She could feel Natasha's eyes on her from across the building as she reloaded her gun, and she fired automatically, her body moving entirely on muscle memory.

It wasn't all that long before they had everyone cleared out, and the Hulk took one more look at her, his eyes locking with hers until her hand moved and they dropped down to the gun there. Then he tore off, and her head went back as she blew out a breath.

Too close for comfort, and when Clint came down to stand behind her— there was little point in chasing the Hulk, after all; the best they could do was send a chopper to stay far enough back that he wouldn't notice them but close enough that they would be able to find Banner whenever the change finally left him— she tilted her head slightly and raised an eyebrow.

"An arrow? You thought an arrow was going to help?"

Clint shrugged, spreading his hands wide. "At least it wasn't one that exploded."

"I will hurt you," Maria replied immediately, her voice sharp and severe. "Do not even joke about that. The next time something like that happens, you focus on your orders."

Clint raised an eyebrow and a little grin curved his lips. "You protective of him?"

"You could have gotten me killed." She didn't wait for his response, just waved her arm and shouted, "All right. Clean this place up. Remember, people, we were never here, right?"

The bustle was immediate, and she stalked out of the ruined warehouse, something in her still shaky. She reached up to rip her earpiece out and the moment she cleared the corner of the warehouse where no one could see her, she vomited. There was nothing in her stomach— she never ate before an op— but the heaving was uncomfortable, hurt, and when it was finally over, she shifted, leaning back to let her forehead rest against the warehouse. The hairs on her arm pricked, and she shoved herself up, her eyes snapping open in the same moment.

Natasha wasn't smiling as she walked in close. Maria swallowed back the bile still in her mouth, and she nodded slightly toward Black Widow.

"Widow," she said evenly, and Natasha didn't give her pleasantries as she leaned in close, her eyes sharp and entirely too clear for Maria's taste. There was no hiding anything from Natasha. Doubtless, there would be a perfectly written brief on Fury's desk before Maria even got on the plane home.

Maria's stomach churned at the thought because how the hell was she going to explain this?

"You look solid," Natasha finally said, and Maria's eyes focused on her, a frown curving her lips.

"I look what?"

"For someone who was so close to him," Natasha said, as though that clarified anything. ... Then again, maybe it did. She remembered the broken body of the hostile who had been the same proximity to the Hulk that Maria had been. She was certainly more solid than he was now.

"Lucky me," Maria retorted, and she straightened up. "Come on, we have a warehouse to secure."

Natasha's hand wrapped tightly around her arm, and Maria looked back at her.

"What, Widow?" she said and it was an effort to keep herself steady now. She was about sick of people grabbing her to keep her where they wanted her. The last person to do that before today had nearly lost their hand, and the urge was coming up hard to start that up again.

"You could have died," Natasha said slowly, and there was nowhere that Maria could look to escape those sharp eyes. Maria swallowed as Natasha stepped in closer to her, close enough now that Maria was fairly sure the Hulk would be able to smell them on one another. "You were supposed to stay with the other agents."

Maria's jaw clenched, and she removed her arm from Natasha's grip with a sharp jerk. "Yes. But I didn't. Die. Or stay with the other agents, and here we are, discussing things that are no longer a priority. We have a building to secure, Black Widow. I suggest we get to it."

She turned on her heel and left Natasha standing there, hoping vaguely that the other woman didn't notice what little had come out of Maria's stomach. It was a vain hope though, and she knew it. Likely, Natasha had stood right there and watched Maria retch. She wrinkled her nose at the thought, stormed back into the warehouse and focused on directing the clean-up and management of their new guests.

They were almost done by the time the helicopter brought Bruce Banner back, and Maria watched him stagger out of it, reaching up to rub his head as he looked at the wreckage he'd left behind. Doubtless, there was a swath of it through the city too. He grimaced a little as his fingers tightened in his hair, and Maria frowned as she realized he was bare but for his pants, which had been stretched well beyond use. She sighed, waved over an agent, and got them to bring her a spare set of clothes.

It was mostly assault gear, but it was clothes that he wouldn't have to hold up at the very least. She checked it all over and nodded. "Good work. Take this over to him, and then resume—" She cut herself off as she met her agent's expression, the too-wide eyes and panicked look on their face. She could feel a muscle in her own jaw jumping as she asked very slowly, "You are okay to take it over to Banner, are you not?"

"Uh... Y-yes, ma'am, it's just... I'm on detail with the hostiles—"

Maria blew out a breath as she waved the agent away. Then she picked up the gear and headed over to chopper, where Banner was sitting lightly on the edge. She put the stack of clothes in his hands.

"Here. Change. Director Fury will want to see you," she said firmly. It wasn't a request, and she had no plans to let Banner try to interpret it as one. He blinked up at her, took the clothes, and nodded faintly.

"Of course he does. ... Did I do...? I did. No point in asking, is there?" The smile on his face was sad, didn't reach his eyes, and Maria frowned slightly as she studied it.

She looked back to the warehouse, and then said, "Not all of it. Your fair share, sure, but not all of it. Change, Banner."

Banner nodded faintly, climbed on into the helicopter, and he stepped in the back where he was far less visible as he pulled on the clothes. She kept her own eyes on the warehouse and tried not to let herself compare how skinny he was with how muscled the Hulk had been. It seemed like all she could think of though was the tension of those muscles, how strong he'd felt under her touch.

How confused he'd been when she'd hit him.


	2. Chapter 2

The heaviest music she owned was probably not nearly as heavy as it needed to be, given her mood, but as she snapped the ponytail holder around her hair and stretched easily, the motions second nature and long since practiced into her muscle memory— same as the conditioned reflexes she had when it came to guns and everything else— she found she didn't really care. The important thing was that her phone plugged into the dock and rock music blared out. She had to focus not to grind her teeth as she stepped onto the treadmill, taking her first couple of steps as she adjusted it to her current needs. Something that would leave her aching and worn out when she was done. She didn't want to be thinking after this.

There was no way to avoid the fact that she was doing this specifically to think though, to replay the last mission, to relive that moment of the Hulk's hand around her, green eyes locked with hers, and what had he said? Betty. He'd called her Betty. Muscles in her jaw twitched, and she punched up the speed a little more. Elizabeth Ross. She hadn't needed to look the woman up. There was no one else who had made such an impression on the Hulk, and what had he even been doing? Mistaking her for the scientist that Bruce Banner had been in love with? There was no similarity between them, nothing beyond some passing visual similarity.

Fury had been willing to believe it though, had grilled her far more thoroughly than anyone else had so far. No one else wanted to talk about it, which suited her just fine, and Banner didn't even seem to be aware of what had happened. That thought had her shuddering inside, the idea of being so raw, so open, so exposed and having no clue. The poor man hadn't even really been aware that he had destroyed that warehouse, let alone the city around it. His memory had no place for that heartbeat she'd spent with the Other Guy, shouting at him and hitting him with one fist. Like that would do anything. Like she was capable of actually making the Hulk listen to her.

No one made the Hulk listen to them, not even Banner, and the man shared a brain with the beast.

She would have punched the speed up a little more, but she knew better, so instead, she just focused on what she and Fury had gone over, their plans for the Avengers and what, exactly, they were going to do with the World Security Council. The morons who had tried to nuke Manhattan. How far out would that fallout have been? Probably DC. She scowled. Way too damn far. That was what the fallout would have been, and some part of her was still convinced that it had been an attack on the States. Fury said she was paranoid, that the WSC was simply over eager in their desires to push ahead, to defend this planet from the dangers they'd discovered existed, but she refused to believe him.

She knew what an attack on her nation's soil looked like.

Her music rolled over to another song, and then, way too soon to be normal, it clicked off. She stumbled, her head jerking around, and she tapped the button to slow down her treadmill as she watched someone touch her phone and change the music.

Classic rock.

Her breath caught in her throat for just a second as the man turned and grinned, wide and easy at her.

"Tony Stark," she managed after a second, and he pulled himself up to get on the treadmill beside her. That was when she noticed he was dressed similarly to her, sweats and a tank, but Tony had that little ring of light in his chest instead of the glint of dog tags. She lifted her chin a little, her brow furrowing as she watched him fall into an easy jog with her. Instinctively, she lowered her own speed to match so that they keeping pace with one another.

"Killing yourself on this thing, aren't you? Mean, I don't know about you, but I know I'd be dying tomorrow." He didn't look at her, instead focusing on the controls on the treadmill. "Geez, do people really still use these?"

Maria's jaw tensed, and she snapped her head to look straight forward again, doing her very best to ignore him. "I think you have to live here in order to use the fitness center," she said. It was one of the reasons that she chose to use her apartment's center instead of the SHIELD training room, which was certainly more diverse in its options. She wouldn't have just been on a treadmill or planning to pound the hell out of a punching bag if she'd been there.

But given her current mood, being there would have been one of the worst ideas she'd had in a while.

"So you do. Plan on tattling?" Tony's grin widened as he looked up from the treadmill controls to her. He waggled his eyebrows. "Such a stickler for the rules, aren't you?"

She said nothing else to him, just tapped up her speed slightly. Her attention slid over to him as his own treadmill sped up to match.

"Which is why I'm confused. See, I've heard that you actually approached the Hulk on a mission. And I'm fairly sure that's not in the protocols for us, you know, 'normal' people."

"You don't consider yourself in the same league as me," she retorted. "Don't even pretend, Stark."

"Well, I meant those of us who might actually break of the Hulk decided to play with us." Tony chuckled as he adjusted his treadmill a little more. "How do people run like this? I have a much better fitness center, Maria—"

"Agent Hill." She glanced over at him, meeting his eyes for a moment. "It's Agent Hill."

"Right. Agent." Tony grinned, wide and easy, and she couldn't stand it then. She pulled the key on her treadmill to make it stop, and as she turned to look at him, she scowled.

"What are you here for, Stark?"

"Right down to business. I can appreciate that." Tony slowed his own treadmill some before he pulled the key as well and turned to face her. He leaned back against one of the hand bars. "My question to you, if you don't mind, is what, exactly, did he do when he grabbed you?"

Her stomach dropped out for the question, but she held Tony's eyes easily enough. She'd stared down the barrel of much bigger weapons than him, after all, and she was still here. He didn't scare her.

"Shook me like a rag-doll," she replied, raising an eyebrow. "Isn't that what he does?"

Tony snorted, and he leaned back a little more with a laugh. "See, that's what everyone keeps telling me. That our favorite Hawkeye managed to save your life by shooting him, but I don't know that I believe it."

"Because you're such an optimist and the Hulk is such a sugar-spun sweetheart."

"Because he's a very primal creature and you, my dear, are a very attractive woman."

Maria had to work to keep herself steady as she tilted her head. "Are you implying that he wanted to fuck me?"

Tony considered that, tapping his fingers against the hand rail, and Maria was a little baffled at seeing him actually thinking about it. Surely not, surely he wasn't—

"No," he finally said, and he shrugged. "I don't think so." Then he leaned in, and Maria had to remind herself not to lean back to try to get space in between them again. "I think he wanted to keep you though," Tony decided.

"Keep me. And do what with me?" Maria sighed as she waved a hand and she turned back to the treadmill. "You came out here and decided to go for a run with me to what, poke at me and threaten, Stark? You think that—"

"Not threaten," Tony said, and the words escaped him so quickly that Maria found herself looking at him again. He was fidgety— but then again, when was Stark not fidgeting or playing with something— and her eyes narrowed as she watched him swallow. He wasn't doing anything as obvious as sweating, but there was definitely tension in the corners of his mouth, and even when he laughed, there was something... "Not threaten. Not you. I'm expressing concern. I'm allowed to do that, you know—"

"Why was Banner in India again in the first place?" Maria asked, her voice very low.

Tony glanced up at her, then back at the treadmill controls, and his fingers traced where the key went. "Bruce needed some air. Was worried about the Big Guy and all—"

"He was what wrecked the fourteenth floor a while back. Not one of your research projects." Maria turned that over in her head, considering. They'd all considered Tony and Bruce's friendship to be a good thing, even if Tony was prone to attempting to provoke a rise out of the scientist. It was good for him to have a tether besides Betty, someone that he could talk to and bounce ideas off of, and even more importantly, someone who could possibly get him interacting with the world in a relatively healthy manner again.

Possibly Tony wasn't the best choice there, but he was certainly the first person since Betty that Banner had bonded with at all.

"And he left after."

"He was a little sensitive about it. Embarrassed, you know. Like I told him though, fourteenth floor? Who cares? No one was gonna miss the damn thing—"

"Except he killed someone."

Tony's eyes snapped up to her, and he was quiet for a heartbeat before he grinned, wide and not nearly as easily as she'd first thought he'd been grinning. "Yeah, well, it's a research building. Risks are a part of the job."

Maria nodded slowly. That Banner had killed someone had been a complete stab in the dark, but it was a relief to know she wasn't that far off. Tony had probably covered it up from SHIELD as best he could; he must have done well too, because she couldn't remember hearing anything about it.

She met Tony's eyes, and for a long moment they were both quiet while they sized one another up. Trying to decide how much they trusted each other. That ring of light wasn't dog tags, wasn't a sign of anything but Tony's own insistence that he couldn't be killed, but that... that was familiar. That was something she'd decided for herself a long time ago, and no matter how much she did or didn't trust Tony Stark, there was something in him that she did trust.

That ring of light, maybe.

The way it was just as much a universal symbol for Iron Man as the colors. He was their own personal nuclear deterrent, and she trusted that. Trusted that circle of light.

"He called me Betty," she finally said, looking back to the treadmill as she slid the key back in place. She didn't turn it on though. "When he picked me up. He called me Betty."

She couldn't see Tony except out of the corner of her eye, but she felt it when he tensed. The air in the room changed, and the door cracked open, and Tony shouted, "Get out," before it even opened all the way.

It snapped shut again, and Maria wondered vaguely which of her neighbors he'd run off. Who was going to be scared to come back to the fitness center for a few days now?

He stepped off the treadmill and crossed the room just as Queen crooned across the speakers, some song that Maria was certain she was supposed to know the name of and had managed to get through her childhood without learning. Then again, there hadn't been much time for music in her childhood, had there?

"And you let him?"

She didn't recognize Tony's voice at first, and it was until she looked up at him that she was even sure he'd been the one who spoke. She swallowed, and as he clicked the lock in place on the door, she shook her head. She'd hit him, hit the Hulk, and she had thought herself long since passed that kind of suicidal stupidity. Apparently, she'd been wrong.

She didn't offer more than that until Tony came back to her and reached out, his hand on her arm. She jerked back before he could grasp her elbow, and she realized too late that it was too telling of a move. His eyes were sharp on her, far better with people (or maybe just people like her) than he normally let on, and his fingers flexed for a second before he dropped his hand.

"What did you do, Agent Hill?" he said, his voice rough. She lifted her chin again so that she could look down her nose at him.

"I told him I wasn't Betty," she replied, and she looked at the treadmill, then out the window in front of her. There was only brick outside the glass, and it steadied her. Reminded her of home.

It was why she'd picked this building, why she liked her apartment and this fitness center. Here, all she saw was red brick, and she could hold onto everything that had made her who she was today. Here, she could be Maria Hill instead of Agent, and here, she could remind herself that it was best that her apartment was empty when she went back to it.

"I reminded him that I was Maria," she added.

"Not Agent Hill," Tony said softly, and Maria jerked as his hand touched her again. It was flat against her arm though, no hint of curve to those fingers, no move to hold onto her, and she lifted her eyes to meet his.

"I didn't think the Other Guy would make that sort of distinction, Stark. It was a little beyond his level."

"Oh, I think you'd be shocked at just what his level entails."

Maria's eyes narrowed as she held Tony's gaze. "Did you two... test the limits of the Other Guy? His... mental abilities while in that state?"

Tony raised an eyebrow, and he tipped his head as his hand fell away. He leaned back against the other treadmill and shrugged, just the barest rise and fall of his shoulder. If she hadn't been watching him so closely, she might have missed it, and since when did Tony ever do anything that small?

"We might have played around a bit."

"And destroyed the fourteenth floor."

Tony's amusement faded, and he stared at her for a long moment. Hating her, she thought, just as much as she hated him for being here. Maybe next time, he'd think twice before coming into her apartment building uninvited.

She didn't hold her breath on that thought.

"That was unrelated. The Other Guy is temperamental, but then, you know that, don't you, Agent? I imagine you got a good look at his temper in India."

"Oh, I saw everything I needed to, yes," she shot back, and she turned on the treadmill. She wanted to focus on anything that wasn't Tony for the moment, and running again, running herself completely into the ground, sounded like a fine plan. The dog tags around her neck felt as though they weighed a metric ton, and she had to keep her mind on her breathing, on her chest moving even with the weight of them against her skin. "Believe me when I say I have no plans to invite him to a crowded room any time soon."

Tony nodded— she saw the flash of movement— and after another heartbeat, the other treadmill started up. They ran for several minutes, the phone playing more Queen and American Pie and songs that Maria knew the tune of and not the name. Tony, surprisingly, spent the entire time quiet, just running, and she purposely sped herself up a few times just to see him follow suit after a moment.

She hadn't expected him to be any good here, hadn't honestly expected him to keep up, but then again, his energy levels were amped up by the Arc Reactor. Or at least, that was what she'd understood from the materials Natasha had provided during the original scouting missions for the Avengers Initiative. Plus, it did actually require some degree of strength to wear the Iron Man armor as effectively as he did.

It shouldn't have pissed her off as much as it did, but she didn't stop until she had him gasping for breath, finally tapping his own treadmill down and reaching up to hold his side with a little laugh.

"Angry thing, aren't you?" he said, and Maria's teeth ground together for that too.

She was going to wear them down to nothing if she kept this up.

"You know Banner has some anger management techniques—"

"You know, without your suit, I'm fairly sure I can kick your ass," Maria retorted, raising an eyebrow, and Tony held up his hands, chuckling.

"Well now, I don't pick fights without the suit. You know that."

"Mm." Maria nodded slowly. "Of course you don't. Time for you to go, Stark." She nodded toward the door, where someone else was trying the handle. They were out of luck though, given the lock Tony had put in place.

Tony shrugged. "Yeah, yeah. I know when I've outstayed my welcome."

"That would be a first." She headed over to the phone, adjusting her music again, and she didn't watch as Tony did whatever Tony was going to do in preparation to leave. "Don't forget the training session day after tomorrow, and fix the door on your way out," she added. "We use RFID cards in this building—"

"Believe me, I know. I fixed that already."

Those words made her close her eyes, and she really wished Tony wouldn't tell her things like that. Actually, she wished no one would tell her things like that. If no one told her things like that, she didn't have to lie when she was inevitably asked about them.

"So now no one but residents will ever manage to get in here."

"And you," she fired back, glancing back at him over her shoulder. His grin widened, a little sharper than it had been earlier.

"Only seems fair."

"And you care about fair."

"Just as much as you do, Agent Hill."


	3. Chapter 3

"Do it again," Maria said slowly, reaching up to rub her forehead as she tried not to look at the train wreck of a training session her day had turned into. She had much more important things to be doing, honestly—

No. That wasn't actually true, was it? Nothing mattered more than this, than getting this team of people to work together like something other than Fury's favorite bag of cats.

"Stark, you agreed to let Rogers lead on this one—"

"Yeah, well, it was a dumb call," Tony retorted, and Maria closed her eyes. The dog tags under her uniform felt heavy again, and she was beginning to resent Tony for doing that to her.

"And it wasn't your place to argue, was it?" she countered. "Do it. Again. Now."

The SHIELD agents all groaned a little as they started moving, going back to their start positions.

"This is easy enough for all of you, isn't it? Any one of you could single-handedly rescue this bank from its robbers. But that's not the point of this exercise." She leaned forward, wrapping her hand around the microphone. "The point here is to trust one another and work as the team you claim you are."

"Speaking of, can we talk about that team name? I'm still not entirely sold on the whole 'Avengers' thing—"

"Tony." That was Steve's voice, all stressed patience as he only got around Tony Stark. But then again, Tony Stark could wear down the patience of a saint, couldn't he? Maria's lips twitched slightly as she watched Steve walk across the fake street to reach out and put a hand on Tony's shoulder. "I know this is difficult for you, but we're all working together here."

"And yet I don't have a suit on. Do you have any idea how hard it is to 'pretend' to be Iron Man? I don't understand why I can't have the suit on for this—"

Maria cleared her throat and said firmly, "Because that risks the agents involved in this exercise, Stark. You _agreed_ to this, remember."

"It's stupid! I need my suit in order to really get into this. I mean, how am I supposed to move as fast as I would otherwise? Cap here gets to keep his super-strength—"

"I'm not suiting up either, Tony," Bruce said softly, wiping his glasses off on the tail of his shirt. Tony's mouth snapped shut, and he looked over at Bruce for a second before he looked back to Steve.

"Still. I don't like it—"

Steve drew in a breath and leaned in a little closer, his hand wrapping over the back of Tony's neck before he murmured, "I need you to trust me here, Tony. I won't ask you to do anything in this that you're not capable of doing without the suit. You believe that, don't you?"

Tony looked past Steve toward the mock bank, and Maria watched his throat work as he considered that. The man felt as helpless as she did when faced with watching Thor and Steve and the Hulk all duke it out. It was humbling, being face to face with that kind of power, knowing that if any one of them got their hands on you, you'd be dead in a heartbeat.

She shifted, trying not to think of green eyes as she cast her gaze toward Bruce. The man adjusted his glasses, and Maria bit her lip before she said evenly, "Ready, Avengers?"

There was a low chorus of affirmatives, and she nodded to the agent manning the clock.

"Run number six," she announced for the record, "Bank rescue, Avengers team composed of Black Widow, Hawkeye, Hulk, Iron Man, with Captain America leading."

How had this become her life? Announcing these names, calling these people by them as though that was normal. Then again, it was probably no worse than the code names they'd used on ops, she supposed. It was just strange to think that these were heroes. Captain America alone had done how much for their country?

"Begin."

They moved well at first, but they normally did. It was when the heat came on that they cracked and shattered. But that was to be expected, given the sheer number of trust issues in that room. Maria watched as Captain America ordered Hawkeye up to cover Black Widow's stealth entrance into the back of the bank. Iron Man swaggered and strutted, preening like a peacock to keep the terrorists watching him up front while Captain America ordered the agents acting as the police to push the barrier back some. Her eyes dropped to the clock and then snapped right back up, just in time to see Black Widow 'kill' the first terrorist.

Iron Man was too loud, too brash, a terrible negotiator, but Captain America wasn't interested in negotiating this time, or he wouldn't have sent Black Widow in first without accompanying her to keep her kills to the minimum. When she was in situations like this, more often than not, she reverted back to her old training without as much as a blink.

It was the reason all of the agents playing hostiles went limp nearly as soon as she touched them. Maria watched her drop two more with nothing more than brushes of her fingers against their wrists; that was all it took because they all knew that if the Black Widow managed to touch you, you were as good as dead. They'd all watched her spar with Steve before, watched her fight with Clint as though gravity was only something she took into consideration, same as she did any other law.

It was a fast run, and with Natasha infiltrating, it was one of their best times on record. Clint took out the last hostile with a hostage against their chest, and Maria sighed as she lifted a hand. The clock stopped, and she nodded as she pulled her headset off.

She didn't want to hear Steve congratulating the others on a successful mission. It had taken them six times to get this far, and the only reason they'd managed this one was because Steve had given in and just sent in Widow. If he'd stuck to his moral fiber about it the way he would on a real mission, they would still be running this one.

She reached up, rubbed her forehead, and when she finally looked back across at them, she met Banner's eyes. The man smiled slowly, shrugged, and headed off the set toward the lunch that was being set out. Maria's stomach recoiled sharply at the thought of food.

"Well, that was a success," someone said, and Maria slammed her hand down on the desk.

"We're supposed to trust them with our lives, with the lives of everyone in this country and sometimes of the entire world. It shouldn't take six tries to subdue some amateur bank robbers," she snapped.

No one responded, and when she looked back up, it was Steve holding her gaze this time. There was no trace of amusement or pleasure in his face, and his voice was very cold as he said lowly, "I was under the impression that these exercises are for us, Agent Hill. To assist us in our effort to work as a team."

"Everyone level seven and under, get out."

Before Clint and Natasha could do much as stiffen at the order, Maria pointed a finger toward them. "Not you two," she said, and there must have been something uncontrolled in her voice because neither one of them even moved a muscle.

She saw a twitch in Banner's jaw though, and she drew a breath, tried to steady herself.

No one so much as breathed until the other agents were out of the room— she didn't even want to think about what they were going to tell Director Fury about this session, let alone what kind of gossip was going to by flying around downstairs later.

Doubtless before the end of the day, the story would talk about how Maria Hill and Captain America were slugging it out right there with Iron Man keeping score.

"What," Stark said, and she looked up just in time to watch him waggle his eyebrows at her, "don't want the children hearing Mommy and Daddy fight?"

"Really, Tony," Clint retorted, "it's more like watching big sister and big brother fight over what Daddy said."

Maria snorted at Clint, but she didn't let herself pull rank on him, didn't snap for him to keep his damn mouth shut and stop encouraging Stark. She just said firmly, "This is what we're working on. This right here. Reassuring SHIELD that you can work as a team," she snapped. "That the Avengers initiative wasn't just some pipeline dream of Fury's. That you are capable of protecting us."

"We did that, if you recall, at New York, and we weren't the ones who—" His mouth clamped together, and Maria raised her chin.

"Who, what, Captain? If you have something to say, then say it. Right here. Get it on the table."

"And what if I do, Hill?" Steve didn't loom over her, but then again, with the differences in their sizes, he didn't have to. She had stood up to bigger guys than him though, and she held her ground. "SHIELD didn't so much as even attempt to support us in New York—"

"How dare you—"

"You let a nuclear warhead nearly hit, and how far would the fallout have reached? DC? We'd have lost the entire eastern seaboard because you couldn't keep your weaponry under wraps—"

"Who do you think told Stark that there was something incoming, Rogers?" she snapped back, and she felt a vicious little blossom of satisfaction unfurling in her chest at the way his eyes widened, darted over toward Tony. "Director Fury—"

"Is holding more cards than anyone ever should," Stark interjected, and both she and Steve turned to look at him. He was pale, and she watched as Banner sighed and walked over to him. Banner's hand was small over Tony's shoulder.

"Director Fury," she said carefully, "is the only one willing to do that job."

"And maybe the power's gone to his head," Tony snapped.

"Like it has yours?" Maria took half a step toward Tony, and she stiffened when Banner tugged him half a step back and Rogers wedged himself between them. She kept her focus on Tony, and her voice pitched a little high when she fired off, "Maybe if you'd stuck to the cards, Stark, we wouldn't be in this same mess—"

"Right, because toeing the company line is always the best policy," Banner replied, and Maria turned toward both Clint and Natasha, raising an eyebrow at them.

It was Natasha who shrugged and met her eyes. "I prefer telling SHIELD's lies."

Maria closed her eyes for half a second before Steve's voice broke in.

"SHIELD's lies? Is that how you view this, Widow? We shouldn't be telling anybody's lies. The people deserve—"

"Deserve what, Captain? The truth? How comforted do you think they'd be, knowing that New York was nearly lost and not even to the aliens who invaded?"

"Sure makes me sleep better at night," Banner said, and Maria's skin prickled at the thought of something keeping Banner up at night. There shadows under eyes— but then again, there were always been shadows under his eyes, even back before he'd become host to the most fearsome creature she'd ever seen— and she had to work to drag her eyes over to Tony.

"Stark, sit down before you fall down," she ordered, and Tony snorted, waving a hand at her even as Bruce's hold on the man tightened.

"Stop avoiding the problem, Hill," Rogers snapped, and he took another step in toward her. She didn't let herself back down from him, so they were nearly touching.

She couldn't remember the last time she'd had anyone try to pull this kind of thing with her, and certainly not someone who was under her in the chain of command. She lifted her chin, holding his gaze.

"The only problem I'm avoiding is the one I've been ordered to, Captain. I suggest you take a step back and regroup your team—"

"And what problem is that? Is it the fact that not a damn one of us had any real choice in this little team of Fury's?"

"I chose to be here," Clint said, and damn him, but the bastard was practically laughing as he held up a finger. "I rather enjoy these little get-togethers. Exciting."

"Like Budapest?"

He wagged a finger at Natasha. "Don't even joke about Budapest. You and I obviously are thinking of very different things there."

Maria and Steve both glanced back at one another, and she was relieved to see some of the tension in Steve's mouth easing. And then he remembered who was looking at because it hardened right back, and she snorted faintly at him.

"If you have a problem with your team, Captain, I suggest you talk to Director Fury about it—"

"His team? Why are we his team? I thought we were all equals here. Like knights of the round table. We're Camelot, right, doctor?" Stark's words tumbled out too fast, his breathing shallow, and Maria worked to keep her attention on Rogers in front of her instead of looking over at him.

"Not now, Stark," she said just as Rogers opened his mouth to say something. Probably something placating like that they'd talk about that later. That was Rogers' preferred tactic after all when handling his crew.

"What were you ordered not to bring up, Agent Hill?" Rogers' voice was low, harder than Maria expected. She drew a deep breath and they were close enough that it meant they touched, but neither of them was willing to back down here. They couldn't. Backing down was only going to be the first step in yielding.

"If I was ordered not to tell you, do you really think I will just because you ask nicely? And it's Commander, Captain. Commander Hill."

"You think I give a damn about that right now?"

"I don't think you give a damn about anything that isn't directly pertaining to you right now, no," she snapped. Fury was going to kill her. "But then, I suppose that should be expected from someone like you."

His eyes widened, and she didn't let herself stop, didn't let him catch a breath to interject with.

"See, Captain Rogers, the thing about you is that you, for all that everyone thinks otherwise, are not actually a soldier. You are a prop. A figurehead. Being a leader is about more than just leading people during a crisis, and frankly, I don't think you can do that."

"And what, you can? You want to lead this team, Commander?"

"I would that I could!" Maria scowled. "But Director Fury has made his decision on who should be in this team—"

"And we're his favorite bag full of cats?" Banner's voice was steady, but Maria could hear the tremor in his voice. Her eyes snapped to him, and then to Tony in his arms.

"You need to calm down, Banner," Maria said, forcing her voice to even out. The last thing the needed—

"Calm down? Steve is right. Tony could have *died* while intercepting your nuke—"

"You don't think we know that? We'd have been picking up pieces of the Iron Man suit from all over the eastern seaboard for months." And likely fighting every step of the way with Potts, who would have taken SHIELD down if it was the last thing she could do.

Tony paled at those words, and before Maria could warn Bruce, he hit the ground, one hand clutching at his chest. The arc reactor glowed steadily, but Maria wasn't sure exactly how the damned thing worked, and she rushed over to him, her hand against his chest.

"What did you do to him, Hill?" Rogers said, and he stepped closer to her. A flicker caught her attention, the barest shade of green rippling over the hands helping her brace Tony, and when she locked eyes with Banner, her heart stopped.

They were green. Banner's brown eyes were green.

"Shut up, Captain," she said softly, evenly as she could.

"Shut up? You bring this up, yell at us, decide we're not adequate protection for the Earth despite New York—"

Tony flinched under her hands, and Banner's muscles jerked. Maria swallowed, her words failing her for the first time in a long time.

"And you make Tony collapse—"

"Steve." That was Natasha's voice, but it was too late. Maria couldn't look away from those green eyes, and she flinched, instinctively pulling Tony closer— couldn't leave a man behind, especially not one of their civilian consultants.

Her eyes closed, but she could hear the clothes ripping, the snarling, and when she looked up again, it was the Hulk staring at her.

Steve took half a step in closer to her, and the Hulk roared at him. He held up both hands— Maria couldn't look away from the Hulk, but she knew how Steve moved, knew his preferred tactics— and said, "Hey, now, Big Guy, it's okay. We're just... We're just talking—"

"Like he's going to believe that," Clint said, and Maria made herself let go of Tony just enough to hold up a hand. She would bet anything that he already had an arrow nocked and ready, and that was just going to make things worse.

"Down," she ordered, and the Hulk's eyes snapped back at her. She shivered, dropped her hand to wrap back around Tony, and she flinched when she heard someone move.

That flinch turned out to be a mistake, because the Hulk roared all over again— it was deafening this close to him, and the force of it made her hair move— and she couldn't stop the little cry that escaped her when she found herself wrapped in that hand again.

He tucked both her and Tony against his chest in one hand, snarled, and she could hear Rogers and Barton and Natasha shouting as the Hulk tore through the wall. Her eyes closed because moving this way made her stomach churn, and she spared a brief thought that she was going to need to let Director Fury know the reinforced wall hadn't even slowed the Hulk down.

Or not. He'd see the Hulk-sized hole when they told him what had happened.

She bit the inside of her cheek as the Hulk tore through the building, straight out into the city. He ran flat out with her and Stark, and at his top speed, he could go what, 300 miles per hour?

She threw up twice as they leapt through the city, trying her damnedest not to hit Tony with it, and when they finally hit the grassy open well away from the buildings, she cracked open her eyes. He pulled her away from his chest to look at her, and she bared her teeth before she thought about it— no Natasha here to remind her that it was stupid thing. The Hulk just looked at her, leaning in as his free hand— Tony was on the ground and still not moving, and her stomach twisted at the realization— came up and pressed a finger against the side of her face.

"I am not crying!" she argued, but she knew her eyes were probably red.

He leaned in closer, and her breath caught in her throat as he sniffed her. Not just a little bit either. He pressed in until his nose was inches from her skin, and she could feel the air moving over her every time he breathed in. Her eyes closed. She probably smelled like vomit— at least she hadn't pissed herself when they had slammed into the first billboard— and she looked back up at him when her hair blew across her face. He snorted at her.

"Not Betty," he said lowly, and her heart skipped a beat. His finger touched her face again, petting her, and then his hand wrapped around her once more, pulled her in close to him. "Maria," he breathed, and she wasn't actually certain she'd heard him right.

She stared up at him. She wasn't sure she'd ever believed that the Hulk had long-term memories. Not since Banner had joined SHIELD. The impression Betty left was just that, an impression and hold-over from Banner's memories. Banner didn't even speak to Maria outside of receiving mission briefings. When would he have gained an impression strong enough to affect the Hulk?

"Maria," she agreed, her voice very low.

The Hulk made this low chuffing sound, and for a heartbeat, they were both quiet, staring. Then there was the sound of helicopters and Maria cursed under her breath as the Hulk tightened his hold on her, snatched Stark up, and started running all over again.


	4. Chapter 4

This time, the Hulk did not stop running until Maria had long since lost the ability to keep up with where they were. The only mercy was that her phone was still in her pocket, and she'd never removed the bracelet that held her GPS transmitter. She shivered as he pressed her close in against his chest again, and her eyes closed. It didn't matter though. SHIELD wouldn't dare move in before the Hulk had shifted back to Banner. They couldn't risk it. Everyone knew better than to try to remove Betty from the Hulk, after all, and it would likely be assumed that fact still held true, even if this time he'd taken her and Tony.

But when they finally stopped, she had no idea where they were, and she shivered, pressing in a little closer to the Hulk for a heartbeat.

"Not Betty," he said, a fingertip pressing against the top of her head.

She jerked, looking up at him and scowled. "Maria," she corrected again, and this time, the Hulk smiled very slightly at her. Or at least, she thought it was supposed to be a smile.

"Maria," he repeated.

"And we don't carry Maria around," she said. His brow furrowed and his hold on her tightened before he sighed and set her down again. Finally. It had been hours since her feet had last touched the ground. "Good," she murmured, and the words were absent, the same sort of praise she gave her agents, but the Hulk looked so pleased that it nearly took her breath. She stared up at him, swallowed, and she made herself smile as she reached out to touch his arm. "Good. Maria likes the ground."

"Hulk likes Maria." He reached out and petted her again, and Maria's stomach sank slightly. Just how much did the Hulk like her now? She swallowed, looked around them, and finally wrapped her hand around his finger.

"C'mon, Big Guy," she muttered. They might as well get some kind of rest. She had no idea, after all, just how long the Hulk would stick around. She curled up under one of the overhangs in the cliff side— cliff side, and just how the hell were they even going to get out of this eventually?— and tucked her knees in against her chest. Hulk hesitated, watching her, and then moved to sit beside her, slowly lowering Tony to the ground.

They were quiet for a while, until Maria inched over closer to him, deciding that she was going to risk it to check Tony over. The Hulk just emitted heat, and while it wasn't cold, it was comforting. She reached out and touched her fingers to Tony's throat, her eyes closing as she held her breath. Then there it was, she could feel his heartbeat, and her air left her in a rush. She'd been half-convinced he was dead given how little he was moving.

She reached down to find her phone, wanting to at least text in a report, but as she patted her pocket, her eyes closed. She could hear the tell-tale clicking of too many pieces, and there was no telling when the damn thing had been busted. They'd been running full speed for a while, and while she'd been mostly tucked in against the Hulk and Tony, she wasn't sure what the beginning of it all had been like. It was just a blur, but she definitely had enough of an ache settling into her leg that she might have hit it on something.

"So much for calling in," she muttered.

Hulk made a soft noise, tipping his head, and she looked up at him.

"You know, we weren't in any danger," she said, and the words were stupid. Useless. She knew it. The Hulk didn't understand things quite like she did, not like Banner did. The Hulk... well. The Hulk saw things only as the Hulk saw them, and he'd come up as she'd been bent over Tony Stark with Steve yelling at her. Had he perceived that as a threat?

She sighed, reaching up to rub her face. "And now we're stuck out here. You, me, and Stark, Big Guy. ... At least you know where to take a girl." She pushed herself up, and she felt the Hulk tensing beside her. She held up her hands, palms toward him. "Everything's fine. I just need to look around. I'm used to getting the perimeter check, okay?"

He didn't understand her. How could he? But he just stayed where he was as she inched over to the ledge and glanced down. Her feet tingled and she jerked her gaze up toward the sky instead, and that was worse to some extent. At least when she'd looked down at the ground, she'd been painfully aware of her life, her mortality. Looking up at that endless sky, so black with no lights to warm it up, she felt as though she were already dead, floating, drifting from place to place, her feet unattached to the ground under her.

She stumbled, and she reached quickly for the hand beside her to steady herself. The Hulk's hand. He hadn't crowded her, hadn't snatched her off the ledge. He was just looking at her, his hand there to act as a guardrail when she looked up.

She was glad.

"Thanks," she breathed, and her attention snapped over to Tony when he groaned. She darted back over to him, dropping down to brush his hair from his face— stupidly useless action, but it somehow made her feel better. "Stark? You with us?"

Tony's eyes snapped opened, focused on her face, then darted over toward Hulk before he swallowed and looked back to her. "So uh... Private party?"

"Something like that," she said, and she was just grateful that Tony was keeping his voice even. "SHIELD will move in when... everything calms down."

Tony nodded after a second, and he pushed himself up before she could stop him. He was still unsteady, reaching up and rubbing a hand over the reactor in his chest, and he nodded again. "Right. Course they will. Know better than to take the toys away before the Big Guy's done."

Maria's lips pressed into a thin line, but she didn't let herself argue with him. "Indeed. Until then, I don't think we'll freeze, and the... Big Guy seems to be content enough."

She froze as the Hulk's finger settled on top of her head again.

"Not Betty," he said gruffly, and Tony met her eyes as she held her breath.

"Right, Big Guy," Tony said cheerfully, giving Maria a little grin. "She's not Betty. You miss Betty, man?"

Maria glanced over her shoulder in time to see the Hulk nod. His eyes unfocused as he looked away from both of them, and she reached up, wrapping her hand around his finger again. That loneliness made her heart ache.

"Maria," Hulk said, looking over at her.

"You like Maria here?" Tony dusted himself off, and for a second, Maria was very nearly overwhelmed with the urge to kick him in the back of the knee just to get his smug ass on the ground again.

"She nice to you, man?"

Maria stiffened at the question, but before she could say anything, Hulk nodded. Her eyebrows winged up, and she exchanged a glance with Tony, just enough of one to know that he wore the identical expression on his face.

"Pretty," Hulk finally said after a minute. "Like Betty.”

“Pretty doesn’t mean nice,” Maria said lowly, and Tony burst into laughter.

“Or maybe he’s thinking that since you’re pretty like Betty, you make him think of Betty, and _that’s_ nice.”

And painful. She didn’t have to say that part out loud though.

"How about we stop harassing him about Betty, and start figuring out how we're going to get out of here?"

"Oh, SHIELD's not going to come rescue Fury's leading lady?"

Maria's lips pursed, and her fist clenched as she stepped in close and grabbed the front of Tony's shirt. There was a low whine behind her, and her eyes widened as she glanced over her shoulder back toward the Hulk. Those green eyes were too small in his face, squinted up and a tremor ran through him—

She let Tony go.

"They will, eventually," Maria said, moving away from Hulk and Tony both just so she didn't have to see the smug amusement on Stark's face. "But my cell phone's gone and I have no idea where we are. The director knows better than to fetch us before he's calmed down."

"If you'd let me wear the suit while training, this wouldn't be a problem now, would it?"

"Dammit, Stark, you know why you can't wear that suit in training. You fainted because of an anxiety attack—” 

"It was not an anxiety attack!"

“—What if you'd set off a weapon or hit someone with your repulsors on your way out?"

"I have a heart condition!"

Maria raised an eyebrow at him as his hand came up instinctively to rub at the edges of the reactor. He wasn't wearing enough layers to hide it— he rarely did when he was with SHIELD; she'd often wondered if that was his badge of honor among the other agents— but she suddenly realized that he wished he was. His hand curved over it, and she held his gaze instead of watching the light glinting in between his fingers.

"Right," she said after a minute. "A heart condition. Which has absolutely nothing to do with manhandling a three hundred kiloton nuclear warhead aimed at New York City. Has nothing to do with the fact that you very nearly didn't come back through that portal, does it?"

Tony's breath caught in his throat, and she watched him try to swallow, watched him turn his head and look at anything that wasn't her. Hulk's hand came up and gently touched his shoulder, and she wasn't sure she'd ever seen anyone touch Tony Stark when he was flustered like this.

(She'd never seen Tony Stark flustered quite like this, sweat gleaming in the blue glow from his chest.)

Perhaps what surprised her more was the way Tony reached up and curved his hand over Hulk’s finger. He practically leaned into the touch, his eyes closing, and her eyes narrowed.

“We have psychiatrists for that,” she finally said. “For PTSD.”

“Why would I have PTSD, Agent Hill? It’s not like I’m one of your little toy soldiers.”

She sighed as she tipped her head back to look up at the rock overhead. How much rock was up there? A ton? Two? Would the Hulk be able to catch and support the weight if something were to happen to their little overhang? She shook herself, moved back over to Stark, and she dropped down to sit beside him.

"But you are," she said after a minute, and she went ahead and pulled out all the pieces of her phone. Stark eyed them, and when his fingers twitched, she smiled and made sure she pulled every last scrap of the electronic from her pocket. The chip went on top, and Tony licked his bottom lip. "You all are," she added.

His eyes slid up to hers, and they both stared at one another for a long moment before he finally shook his head. "Am not. I'm a contractor. An outside source."

"A consultant?" she murmured, and her smile widened as he stiffened for the word. He wanted to be more. He wanted to belong.

But then again, who in that room didn't, no matter what they said?

Misfits, the entire lot of them. Perhaps none more than Director Fury and Maria Hill and Phil Coulson, and those were the three that everyone looked to for answers. And somehow, even when they had none, they managed to pull answers from somewhere. Often from people like Tony and Steve and—

A hand landed on top of her head, and Maria's eyes closed.

And like the Hulk. Like Banner.

She blew out a breath.

"Being a consultant gives you rights too," she said. She didn't open her eyes, not when she could hear Tony sneaking pieces of her phone off the pile she'd carefully arranged between them. She leaned back into Hulk's hand, and after a minute, she shifted, leaning back against him.

His other hand came up then, slow and soft and hesitant. She wasn't sure she'd ever had a man touch her that way, soft and shy. She didn't attract that sort of man. Or that sort of woman for that matter. But it was obviously the sort this Betty attracted, because Maria imagined that Banner touched much the same. She wasn't sure she bought into the girl's statement that she'd seen Bruce in there, under all that rage, but she thought there was a connection of some sort there, because otherwise, how would anyone justify the way the Hulk recognized people?

"Sure it does," Tony said, and her eyes cracked open slightly at that. "The right to be used."

Same as any soldier. But Stark had Rhodey, and if anyone understood that, it would be him, wouldn't it? Given him and War Machine's past?

She turned her head into Hulk's hand, and she pressed her cheek against his palm. She thought she could feel his heartbeat there, but maybe it was just her own, pounding so furiously with everything that had happened. She'd thought herself long past being some damsel to be swept away.

Maybe that had gone the way of men who touched softly. Maybe it had all gone the way of her own softness.

Then again, maybe there had never been anything soft in her.

Hulk's hand was warm. "It's a privilege," she murmured.

She could hear Stark's scowl in his voice when he snapped, "You can't possibly be that stupid. Privilege, my ass."

"Oh, I'm sure it is. Privileged, I mean," Maria retorted, and Stark hesitated just a little before he chuckled and presumably returned his attention to her phone.

"Yeah, yeah. Don't we all know it."

"You make sure we do," Maria said. "Now, look, Stark, I'm expecting you do get us out of here long before SHIELD shows up to rescue us. You managed to build your pacemaker there in a cave in the middle of Afghanistan—"

"With an arsenal of my own weaponry to draw from," Tony muttered, but she could hear the little noises of him messing with her phone. If nothing else, he was at least focused now, and that would stave off any more anxiety attacks. "I mean, this, this isn't even Stark tech. This is some piece of crap—"

"Standard issue—"

"—burner phone that, look at this, it's in literal pieces. Stark tech doesn't do that—"

"You tested it against being slammed into a billboard? I imagine that was interesting—"

"We stress test everything far beyond commercial recommendations."

She could hear something very close to laughter in his voice. Her lips curved into a smile.

"Pepper's always on about resilience. Probably because I end up breaking most of them, or modifying them so that they don't look the same, then she scolds me."

"Tony Stark should be seen using Stark tech," Maria said agreeably.

"Word for word. Do you guys share a script? I bet you do. I know she still talks a lot with Natasha. I wouldn't be surprised if the three of you have some kind of kick-ass girl club."

Maria laughed at that, trying to imagine sitting down in some cafe with Pepper Potts and Natasha Romanova, eating salads and drinking diet cokes and everything else that popular media seemed to think was appropriate for women to do together.

She was really more of a beer and chips kind of girl. Cheetos, so that her fingers were bright orange and ridiculous.

Because if she was being ridiculous, she was somewhere safe.

"I can assure you, the three of us do not have some kind of kick-ass girl club."

"Shame, but probably for the best. You'd have to invite Clint too, after all, and I hear he's hell to have lunch with."

"Easier to have lunch with Hawkeye than Iron Man," Maria replied, shrugging. "At least he has a mouth."

"Hey, Iron Man has a mouth. Well, a mouth slit—"

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why did you give him a mouth slit?" Maria tilted her head, looking over at Tony curiously as she leaned back against the Hulk. The motion earned her another pet on top of her head, and not for the first time, she spared a thought for Hulk and how small she must have appeared beside him. Maybe he thought of her as a sort of pet, something to take care of.

He obviously needed a dog. Or a cat. Anything that wasn't Betty Ross or Maria Hill or, apparently, Tony Stark.

"People respond better when the suit looks more human. Besides. It's not just decorative. It has to do with the construction of the faceplate and the HUD inside and everything."

Maria raised an eyebrow. "Right. Of course it does."

Because like his heart condition, it had absolutely nothing to do with Tony Stark wanting to build himself better, wanting to make himself everything he thought he needed to be.

She looked away from him, back toward the cliffside and the dark. How long had they been gone anyway?

It didn't matter in any case though. She sighed and shifted and stretched out on the rock, her eyes closing.

It wouldn't be the first hell she'd slept in.


End file.
